


recognise, embrace and believe him

by shella688



Category: High Noon Over Camelot - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-atypical people listening to Brian, Fix-It, Gen, Multi, Small Timeskips, a fair amount of shenanigans, whistlestop tour of "hey what if everyone was fine and hnoc had a happy ending"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24406225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shella688/pseuds/shella688
Summary: Arthur actually listened when the Hanged Man spoke to him about his son, instead of dismissing the prophecy out of hand.Now, as the sun grows steadily hotter, Mordred rides in to Camelot to seek out more of where he came from. And, maybe this time, things will turn out better
Relationships: Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot (High Noon Over Camelot), The Pendragon Gang & Mordred
Comments: 36
Kudos: 198
Collections: The Mechanisms But Without The Mechanisms (Summer 2020)





	recognise, embrace and believe him

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [horrorterroronesie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorterroronesie/pseuds/horrorterroronesie) in the [mechs_albums_summer_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/mechs_albums_summer_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Arthur finally figures out Mordred is his son! Now Mordred has to deal with having 3 parents more than he's used to. Perhaps there's shenanigans?  
> DNW: transphobia from anyone

The Hanged Man's jaw creaked, and his voice was rusty as he sang.

_Arthur, my sheriff, I’ve news to cheer you_  
_Your son yet lives, he’s drawing near you._  
_And saved by those they blamed through fear_  
_Now he’s grown up into a man._

_You lived, and grieved you’d ne’er again see him,_  
_But still he came though feeling deceiving,_  
_So recognise, embrace and believe him._  
_And you may yet save your world._

Arthur opened his mouth to protest that he didn't have a son - but something caused him to pause.

The Hanged Man had been in this town for as long as anyone here could remember, and though he never spoke plainly, his prophecies always had a way of turning out to be true.

So, even though Arthur was sure his daughter was long dead, killed by the Saxons, he thought through what he had heard. Then, at last, he replied.

_Hanged man, your prophecy's baffling_  
_You tell me my son's still alive_  
_For years I thought I had lost him,_  
_Sure he fell to barbarian knives_

_This world is hard and it's brutal_  
_That doesn't mean I must be too_  
_The best now that's all I can do_

And the Hanged Man smiled.

* * *

When Mordred arrived in Camelot, it was prosperous and thriving. The Pendragons were firm rulers, but just, and the settlement was known to be the safest around.

The midday sun beat down on Mordred as he swore fealty to the rulers of the place he hoped he could find a home in.

"My sheriff." Mordred bowed his head and knelt.

He recognised his father, of course he did, but hesistated to look up, in case all he saw in Arthur's eyes was empty politeness.

"You're finally here." It was the crack in Arthur's voice that finally made Mordred lift his head. "My son, you're here."

The dust, that's all it was surely. The dust was the only reason Mordred's eyes stung.  
"You recognise me," he said, and it wasn't a question, it was the realisation that, maybe, he had been right to hope.

"I would always know my son."

And Arthur knelt beside him and they laughed, and sobbed, and then both at once as father and son embraced each other for the first time.

From behind them, Lancelot cleared his throat.  
"Art - you mean to say we have a son now?"

* * *

"Hey, Dad?" Mordred called.

"Yeah?" shouted Lancelot from the kitchen.

He groaned. "Not you, other Dad!"

"You wanted me, son?" Guinevere asked from her workshop.

"What? Mum- no!" Mordred ran a hand through his hair. "Where's Arthur?"

"He's asleep," came Arthur's voice from the bedroom next door.

"No he's not!"

"Well he would be, if his family weren't shouting the house down at seven in the morning!"

Despite the words, Mordred could hear the fondness in his father's voice. He got up, stomping over to his father's door, just to make sure he was _properly_ awake.

"I don't trust Gawain." He didn't bother knocking, instead just sitting on the floor in the doorway.

"Good morning to you too. Why's that?" Arthur's voice was groggy but his mind was sharp. Besides, in just a few days he and his partners would leave Camelot in search for the GRAIL, with Mordred governing in their stead. If his son had a problem, he wanted to hear it whilst he could.

Mordred sighed.  
"He's too quick to fight and condemn. He'll never allow for peace with the Saxons. I'm worried that giving him power will just divide us further."

"Okay, yeah, okay," he replied, nodding. "We won't give Gawain power to rule then. You're capable by yourself"

"That's- that's all you're going to say?" Mordred blinked in shock, like he had expected a bigger fight than this. Or any sort of fight, really.

"Son -" Arthur pushed himself up to look at Mordred properly. "This is your decision to make. You understand what's needed here - I trust you. _We_ trust you."

* * *

The Pendragons were making their final goodbyes on the edge of town. Gawain and Galahad were both there too, stood off to the side and regarding each other with suspicion.

Mordred spoke last to his mother Guinevere.  
"How long will you be gone?"

"Hell- you don't ask the easy questions do you?"  
She considered this for a moment.  
"You tried asking your father?"

He rolled his eyes.  
"Da said go ask your Mum."

"And your other father?"

"Dad said go ask your Da, who said go ask your Mum."

Guinevere smirked, reaching up to ruffle her son's hair. It was a habit by now, even though he'd always been a good head taller than her, ever since he arrived.  
"Alright, how's this? We'll be gone long enough to miss you with every step, but not long enough for it all to go to high hell."

"I stand by the accusation one of your hobbies is avoiding giving straight answers."

She looked fondly at her son, then over at her husbands.  
"The straight part is where the problem is."

* * *

Out on the Camlann wastes, the people Camelot gathered to meet the Saxon delegation. Two hundred Saxons and near twice that of townsfolk looked at each other - properly _looked_ \- for perhaps the first time. And before them all was Mordred, promising peace, and a path past hatred's ugly stain.

He didn't see the scorpion that crawled near him, hidden as it was among the dust and the rubble. But he did see the ghoul, moving to draw her Seax.

"Lower your weapon! This is a place of peace," he shouted, alarmed.

The ghoul dropped her knife and raised her hands placatingly. She nodded towards the scorpion, scuttling along the floor.

Mordred suddenly realised just how close it had all been to going to wrong. How easily this fragile peace could have shattered and broken Taking a steadying breath, he offered out his hand.

The pause seemed to stretch out years before, at last, the ghoul shook it.

"Hereafter," she said, gravely but with no fair amount of relief, "You shall be known to us as Peacemaker, for we never thought we'd see this day."

* * *

In the centre of the round table, in the town hall of Camelot, the Pendragons squared against each other, greed warring with love in their hearts.

Arthur may have been foremost among the three, but they had always ruled as equals, ambition kept in check by affection. But now they found themselves analysing each others' weaknesses, guessing and second-guessing the people they had spent their lives with.

No-one spoke. No-one dared move.

Then, all at once, they found their hands moving away from their guns. They looked each other in the eye. Love had won out.

Guinevere and Lancelot nodded. They knew what would happen next - Fort Galfridian would live again. They could reactivate the engines, move the station away from the sun. They could repair the hydroponics and finally have food and water enough for everyone onboard.

Mordred appeared from the shadow of the doorway, hands stained red from the rust that for years had slowly eaten away at their world.

Rust that now, finally, they could fix.

He nodded too.

So, with the blessing of his wife, husband and son - the three people he loved most - Arthur declared himself Captain of the station.

And, just this once, there was a happy ending  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come shout at me on tumblr! [regicidal-defenestration](https://regicidal-defenestration.tumblr.com/)


End file.
